Acuity
by Maid Of Many Names
Summary: Sometimes what you see is only a matter of how hard you look. Sometimes it's better not to look at all. COMPLETE (Corrected Version)


Title: Acuity

Author: Maid Of Many Names

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: This is the first short story that I've written in a very long time. I cannot say how difficult it has been to switch styles. I hope that I have managed without mangling it! It is a short (600 words) insight into a moment in time.

I was going to have this out by Christmas but I deleted the first draft out of frustration. Naturally, I'd love to hear some feedback! If it stinks, don't too shy to say so. I'm more than happy to work on it. Criticism is an author's best friend.

UPDATE: Apologies to everyone for the strange mixup with this story. When I uploaded this file, somehow it reverted to a past rough draft. This is all the more odd as I don't even have a copy of that version! I think there was some kind of error with Microsoft Word. Ah well, with any luck this should be fine.

Albus Dumbledore's head was bowed over his desk. Silence carpeted  
his ears in velvet nothingness. Not even Fawkes could find heart  
enough to pierce his master's silent introspection. The last of a  
sherbet lemon dissolved on his tongue and finally the old wizard  
shook his head and heaved a sigh. Try as he might he could not let  
go of the exchange he had so recently witnessed. It nestled in his  
mind with a dull ache. His thoughts ceaselessly circled the source  
of that ache, until again plunging into recollection.

_Curses had clouded the air as robed forms apparated in and out of  
combat. Aurors, Death Eaters, Order members and students had  
engulfed the main street of Hogsmead with the haze of too much  
magic. In the middle of it all were the three Gryffindors that were  
responsible for the worst frights of Albus' life. Today they were  
yet again threatening to do in his nerves permanently. Harry had  
engaged the enemy with remarkable bravery and no little foolishness.   
Beside him Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger refused to yield as Death  
Eaters swarmed about shouting Unforgivables._

Alarms had clanged through Hogwarts as soon as battle broke out but  
it had taken precious moments before Albus had been able to reach  
Hogsmead. Having assessed the knots of combat about him, he had  
moved as quickly as he could to protect Harry and his companions.   
Again and again Death Eaters had blocked his passage forcing him to  
waste time dueling them. Regretfully, he did not reach his three  
students before Lord Voldemort did.

With a snarl of defiance Harry spat out the first spell. The Dark  
Lord was all too delighted to meet his enemy in a duel. For all his  
fear, Albus couldn't help the flush of pride at how well the messy  
haired boy stood up to a wizard far beyond him in experience and  
power. That, Albus knew, had to chafe the Dark Lord's pride most  
painfully. 

Of course, Harry's remarkable display of defiance could not last.   
The youngest Weasley boy threw himself into the path of a nasty spell  
that would otherwise have hit Harry. The youngest Weasley boy  
slumped unconscious to the ground. Such a noble effort was in vain,  
as Voldemort flung Harry across the battlefield into the wall of a  
nearby house. It was then that Hermione Granger moved to block  
Voldemort from finishing her disabled friends. Helplessly Albus  
Dumbledore watched as the young witch locked eyes with the serpentine  
Dark Lord. 

The chaotic noise of the battle seemed to evaporate. Hermione's chin  
tilted up in calm determination and she did not flinch under  
Voldemort's gaze. Strangely, the expected tsunami of magic did not  
rise between the two greatest students to have ever passed through  
Hogwart's gates. 

As if in slow motion, Albus watched the dawning look of astonishment  
cross the face of the wizard once called Tom Riddle. The young  
witch's eyes widened and for a fragile shard of time, exultant  
recognition radiated like searing heat between them. Even as it was  
acknowledged, the euphoria of discovery crumpled to aching  
realization. Eyes slipped away from each other. Behind those  
averted orbs, them the knowledge of what had happened was shuttered  
away.

As if by silent agreement, his two greatest students turned to other  
foes and the pandemonium of the battlefield once more took sway.

Had he not seen that silent exchange he would never have wondered  
about the pale empty cast that Hermione Granger's face would take at  
unguarded moments. Nor would he have wondered at Harry's swollen  
scar and strangely moody behavior. Nor would Albus Dumbledore be  
struck silent with the grief of what might be that neither Dark Lord  
or Muggleborn witch would further acknowledge.


End file.
